


Murmur (1/1)

by SomewhereApart



Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A completely fluffy fluffball post-ep for 7.16 "Sink or Swim"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murmur (1/1)

She'd made burgers for dinner, making good on her teasing promise of a traditional American meal, and now they were curled together on her sofa, her back against his chest. She wasn't sure if he was asleep or just thoroughly relaxed, but his arm was limp and heavy where it draped across her torso, and she found herself trailing her fingers over it in slow, soothing strokes as a sitcom syndicated on TV.

It hit her suddenly that if things had gone differently today, if they hadn't had the sheer good fortune of discovering that his father was American, that he'd been a citizen all along, she never would have had this moment. Or any others like it. No more waking up to slow kisses along her neck, or falling asleep to firm, kneading hands along her spine. No more scrambled eggs and toast in bed on a Saturday morning after ice cream sundaes and movies on Friday night.

She'd thought she'd managed to shake the slick anxiety that had made her vaguely nauseous all afternoon, thought it had been pushed out by the grateful relief and easy conversation of the evening. But she'd been wrong. Whatever she'd said about marrying him -- and she'd meant that, absolutely -- she had still almost lost him, and it terrified her. Which, in itself, was scary. They'd only been dating for a few weeks, and she already couldn't imagine her life without him in it. She wasn't used to _needing_ this way. She needed herself, her guns, her space. But she didn't need a man. She'd never needed a man.

And then there was Eric. Sneaking in, making himself important, blindsiding her with a big heart and honest eyes and a depth of love for her that was just staggering. How was a woman supposed to recover when a man looked at her the way Eric did? Like she was wonderful, and beautiful, and irresistible.

She turned suddenly in his arms, needing to see him, needing to reassure herself that he was there, and still hers. His eyes blinked open, a little sleepy but clear enough that she knew he hadn't really been out. Dozing, maybe, but...

"You okay?" he murmured, voice quiet and a little slurred. Definitely dozing.

"I was so scared today," she admitted softly, adjusting when he shifted his grip on her until her head was pillowed on his arm, his other hand slipping under her shirt to trace comforting swirls along her spine.

"Me too."

"I wish you'd told me," she told him again, pressing her lips to his lightly. That he hadn't trusted her with something so huge still stung a little. She'd forgiven it, she was moving on, but it still pricked a tiny hole in her confidence. She'd thought they trusted implicitly. She knew _she_ did.

"I'm sorry," he told her, not for the first time. "I didn't know how."

Calleigh nodded, studied those deep brown eyes and ordered softly, "No more secrets. This was the last one."

Those lips she loved so much curved into a smile and he nodded, gave her a gentle squeeze. "I promise."

"Me too," she whispered, before scooting down and tucking her head beneath his chin, their torsos flush, her palm skating up his ribs, around to grip his shoulder.

They laid there for a while, quiet, still, and this time it was Calleigh who found herself nodding off. She could hear the cadence of his breath, could feel the sweep of his fingers against her bare skin, but she felt like she was floating, like her body was a heavy anchor and the rest of her was drifting up, up, like a helium-filled balloon. It was... odd. But not entirely unpleasant.

His voice brought her back a moment later, quiet and slow. "I'm tired."

"Mm," was all the response she could manage.

"I had this whole plan. I was going to seduce you after dinner."

She chuckled softly, lips curving, feeling suddenly warm and feminine, the way she always did when he told her he wanted her.

"But now I'm _tired_."

Still smiling, she tilted her head up, pressed her lips to his chin. "You had a long day."

"Mmhmm."

"It's still early," she murmured. "Take a nap; seduce me later."

"I thought about that, but I don't think this will just be a nap. I feel like I could sleep for days." His arms banded around her, gathering her close and suddenly she felt like his favorite teddy, like she was the thing he held close at bedtime to chase the nightmares away. And she was kind of okay with that. More than okay, really.

"Then let's go to bed. We'll set the alarm, so you can seduce me in the morning."

She felt the rumble of his soft laugh more than heard it, and then he nodded and kissed her softly, and neither of them moved. Five minutes later, they were still laying there, Calleigh dozing lightly again, Eric still holding her tightly to him. She felt him move, shifting, leaning toward her, reaching past her.

"Mm?" she questioned, not quite conscious enough for words.

"Setting the alarm on your phone," he told her. "Bed's too far."

She wasn't sure whether to laugh or pout, so she sighed and grumped quietly, "Don't wanna sleep in my clothes."

"I've got you," he assured, and a moment later she heard the soft sound of her phone hitting the table, then felt his hands at her waistband, tugging her button free, then her zipper. He eased her jeans down over her hips, and she helped him by wriggling until she could kick out of them. Her own heavy fingers found his belt and fumbled it free, her eyes still closed. He pressed a kiss to her brow, eased her hands away and she felt him shifting, twisting, then tugging her against him again. When she tangled her legs with his this again, they were as bare as hers, and she felt the soft material of the throw blanket settle over them a moment later. She knew she'd probably regret this in the morning, probably wake stiff and sore, but she was so comfortable right now that she just couldn't bear to move.

"Thanks," she breathed, and he nuzzled into her hair and murmured something she couldn't quite make out as she wrapped her arms around him again. "Don't leave, okay?"

"I won't."

"You're mine now."

"Always have been."

It was the last thing she heard, before the steady rhythm of his heart finally lulled her off to sleep.


End file.
